Consort
by Daalny
Summary: Relearning all over again (Spoiler Xmas special season 3)
1. Chapter 1

I could ignore her she did after all reject me. However, I'm a gentleman and I didn't make myself clear and besides the state that she is in... No one with a soul could ignore her. What makes me mad is that everyone _is_. These social niceties are actually cruel. She's been at the hospital making sure to stay out of my sight but others have reported to me that she's here. Inventorying linen of all things and tidying up the medicine cabinet. Her staff has told me she doesn't sleep and when she does her sleep is racked with fits. I tell the staff at her home and the hospital to leave her be but I want updates as to what she is doing. I feel a little deceptive but I quickly transmute it into caring with my physicians mind (I need to know if she is eating).

I'm stirring a pot of something one of my patients gave me on my stove when I hear a knock at my door. I move the pot so I don't burn whatever it is I'm going to eat and go to answer it. A quick flick of my wrist reveals it's just after seven. I quickly go through my mind as to who it could be. I don't think it would be Mr. Fitzpatrick, I only stitched him up a few days ago and he promised to keep his wound clean nonetheless infection can-

I open the door and my mental narrative stops for she is there. I take in her appearance and notice she has her shoes in her hand.

"Why are you carrying your shoes?" I ask not recognizing my voice.

She looks down at them absently as if only realizing now that she had them in her hands. Her eyes are glassy when she looks at me, "They were giving me blisters."

"You walked here?" I nearly shout.

She flinches and I cringe before grabbing her wrist and pulling her inside. She goes willingly which has me worrying. I sit her down on my settee and rush to the kitchen there isn't much tea left in the pot so I augment it with a healthy portion of whisky. I take it to her and she damn near inhales it. I can't see any obvious injury which which is good thing yet for me a bad thing. I have been trained to stitch, reduce, set, mend and excise problems with the human body. I'm not much of a comforter. I look at her again she is playing with the teacup. I have no clue what to do now, should I make more? She inhales sharply as she rearranges her legs and I know something I can do. I go to the kitchen heat up some water while I rummage for a basin. I poke my head out and see that she hasn't moved. Reaching high into a cupboard I find the epsom salts. I mix up the solution and bring it out. I place it before her but she doesn't seem to notice. I ready myself for a slap and reach under her skirts for an ankle. My hand makes contact with her ankle and I use my other hand to push up her skirt so it won't get soaked with the epsom salt bath. I guide her foot to the bath and one of my hands rests on her calf. By instinct I knead it and finally she looks at me. A brief smile from her and she places her feet into the bath. I feel triumphant, the triumph morphs into elation when she joins me in a bowl of the concoction I had on the stove. The combination of whisky, a decent meal and the sleepless nights have her dozing. I move her feet out of the bath and towel them off before swinging her legs up onto the settee. I grab a light blanket and cover her with it. I then sit in my chair with the newspaper and wait.

Two hours later she moans in her sleep and I know what to do. I touch her shoulder and she wakes. I find myself smiling a bit when she blearily rubs an eye. I sit next to her and just begin to talk, I talk about Scotland,about my appalling cooking, anything that comes to mind. She falls back asleep and I still sit beside her. Whenever she makes a sound I am there to soothe her back into a sort of peaceful slumber.

I don't mean to fall asleep in fact it's with a start that my eyes fly open and my head swivels toward the clock. My neck cracks sharply and I mutter a curse. Beside me I feel a strange pattern of movement a rolling of sorts. I look over and see Isobel, she is laughing.

"Go on and laugh," I moan as I sit up and place my elbows on my knees encouraging my head to hang down to work out some kinks. Something in my body cracks again and I expel a breath. Suddenly there is warmth, I recognize the feel of her hands as they rub circles on my back. She seems to have gotten over her merriment, "I"m sorry, it was just funny almost like a cartoon."

I can't remember the last time she smiled openly or laughed. It is in this moment that I would be more than willing to cut off my arm if it would make her smile. I return her smile and she pats my knee before rising and moving towards the kitchen, "Tea?"

"Aye" is my answer.

I'm not paying attention to what I'm doing and as I stand up I put my foot into the now cold epsom salt bath with a splash. "Damn!" is my shout. My anger doesn't last long since there is howls of laughter from the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

Tea is drunk swiftly and she tells me she has to go. "Will you be at the hospital?"

She nods and I let her go, I note that she didn't touch her toast or anything else for breakfast. I sigh and clear the table. I wash and dress quickly then head out. At the hospital I make the rounds. I thought after last night she would be more visible but she isn't. I don't know what I expected to happen.

Grief is a process, Lord knows I have said that to patients on many occasions. There is no magic wand I can wave to make her better. The day passes and eventually it is time for me to come home. I sling my jacket over a chair and pour myself a whisky. I'm just about to take a sip when there is knock at my door. I have an inkling of who is out there. I open the door and see her. She opens her mouth as to speak but then shuts it. I look at her and I see she is holding a suitcase.

This is it, she is leaving and it doesn't really come as a surprise more of a disappointment. Besides her grandson she has no more ties here. I remember the power struggle between her and Cora and how she left for France. I don't want her to leave but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth and I can't tell her. She draws breath and whispers, "Can I come in?"

I nod furiously, I will do anything to get her to stay, and move out of the way so she can come in. She stands by the table, her suitcase still in hand. "I can't stand Crawley House. If I leave it as it is all I can see is Matthew. If I change it...it seems wrong."

I think about what she is saying and I find truth in it. She would either be living in a mausoleum or be accused of forgetting her son. Once again I find myself angry at the social conformities that are actually constraints. I nearly miss it when she starts speaking again, "I know I was rude to you, I want to tell you that I didn't know what you were asking that day, but that's a lie. I knew what you were asking I was just a coward to say yes."

My tongue is suddenly loose, "And now?"

She emits a tiny sob, "I want so many things, H.G. Wells's time machine would be a good start."

"You read that book?" I ask not knowing what else to say.

She nods and I finally take a sip of whisky reaching out with my other hand to take her suitcase. Our hands touch and she looks at me. I can see in her eyes a mixture of want, regret and sorrow. "Oh Isobel" I whisper, her head bows and I can see a tear fall onto my rug. The suitcase is put down and I use a foot to move it away and I put my tumbler down so I can hold her properly. She doesn't cry for very long before she stills. When she's done I push up her chin to look at her. "Come on lass let's get you sorted." Together we make up the spare bed. "Can we start over?" she asks quietly.

I stare at the bed, "did I miss a corner?"

She emits a chuckle, "No I meant…" she waves a hand between us and suddenly I understand.

It is in this moment that I could truly destroy her but I could never do that. "I would like that" is my answer.

There is some awkwardness, I've never shared a home before. Stupidly I thought it would be the same as when we are working. We mesh well in the hospital, we both have our desks and other communal spaces. We never seem to impede one another Label me an idiot but I thought it would be same here, oh the things you learn Richard.

It's a relief to be in my own bed and I'm glad that Isobel is just down the hall in the other room. Sleep finds me quickly. Once again I am awoken roughly, at first I don't know why, then I hear it. I fling the covers the aside and race to her room.


	3. Chapter 3

As a doctor I have to have some form of detachment. Isobel knows this, her husband was a physician and with her being a nurse she has it as well. In this moment it is hard to stay detached, I want to hold her to me. I want to drop kisses into her hair and murmur truth mixed with lies. I wake her as gently as I can. When she finally has her wits about her she rubs her chest no doubt trying to rein her pounding heart. I could get tranquilizers from the hospital but I feeling that she wouldn't take them. I get up to get her a glass of water when her hand clutches my arm, "please don't go."

If the nails on her hand gouging my arm weren't enough stop me the terror in voice has me rooted to the spot. "I won't leave." I get her settled back into bed under the covers. I sit on top the covers and in move from last night I talk to her. This time I talk about medical school and the instructors I didn't care for. She listens intently and in a way I feel that we are starting over, I'm telling her of my past, telling her my secrets. She falls back to sleep and not soon after I follow her. If there are anymore outbursts in the night I am unaware.

I wake and find the bed empty, I don't panic at first. I check the kitchen and I find that she's not there I feel the stirrings of anxiety. I strain my hearing and I hear a door open. I stare down the hall and I see her emerge from the bathroom. it is obvious that she has just bathed, her hair is damp and curling around her shoulders. On her frame is dressing gown-mine. It is too large for her yet it is perfect and I want to see it again and again. She turns to close the door and she doesn't see me but I can see her. The large V of the closure of the gown lets me glimpse the tops of her breasts.

"Jesus" I mutter. She must hear me for she turns. "Oh, good morning. Hope I didn't give you too much of a fright."

_Think quick man_ "Just wondering where you were."

"I woke early I hope you don't mind I used the facilities first."

"I don't mind" I answer truthfully.

She graces me with a smile before turning to go back to her room. When I hear the door shut I expel a breath. I say a quick thanks for the miracle of not embarrassing myself.

I'm almost glad for the somewhat boring monotony of the hospital. We've had some patients discharged home. Isobel and I are going over charts when a new patient is brought in. I see that it's the Hogan's. Mrs. Hogan is crying while Mr. Hogan is cradling one of their sons who is in the middle of a fit.

"Get him on the bed" is my shout. Isobel goes to take the boy from Mr. Hogan who shouts, "no!"

"Sir, we need to get him on the bed" Isobel commands.

I don't understand why Mr. Hogan is not listening. My logic flies out of the window when Mr. Hogan grabs the front of Isobels apron and pushes her. She flies backwards but manages to right herself with chaotic pinwheeling of her arms. Another nurse comes over to steady her and with a nod of her head to the nurse she communicates that she is unhurt. I know a way to kill two birds with one stone. I take two strides forward, ball up my fist and let it fly against Mr. Hogan's jaw. He lets go of the boy who is swiftly taken to a bed also I've defended my woman's honor. I shake my hand out and go to assess the boy. Isobel seems to have recovered and joins me, "Wasn't he brought in for concussion?"

Memory sparks in me and yes she is right. David had been playing football in the village when he had collided with a larger boy and fallen to the pavement. He had been knocked unconscious and brought here. He had awoken on his own and seemed to have recovered well. It is obvious now that his injuries were more severe. Blood is trickling from his mouth I hear Isobel, "Probably bit his tongue." Eventually the fit passes, once David is alert and talking I have Isobel see to his tongue while I go to talk to the Hogan's.

Mr. Hogan is more than apologetic, he apologizes to me for pushing Isobel. In his mind at the time he thought that Isobel and even myself were there to hurt his boy. And in a first for me he then apologizes to me for having me hit him. When Isobel comes into the office bringing cups of tea he rises from his seat apologizing profusely. Isobel waves her hands, a signal for him to sit down. Eventually we all sit and I tell them that David has probable epilepsy resulting from his injury. When they ask how long the fits will continue I tell them truth-I don't know.

My answer doesn't seem to sit well with them. I remember telling Captain Crawley that his spinal injury was unrecoverable. I'm starting to wonder if I should have soft-pedaled the truth in this instance. Thankfully Isobel is there, she tells them about fits in terms they can understand. She makes a list for them of signs and symptoms of what to do. Mrs. Hogan clutches the list protectively. After all the questions have been asked and answered to the best of our ability they leave to go sit with their son. I scrub a hand over my face before running it through my hair. She takes my hand and in hers. She kisses it and I feel warm before she presses on it with her fingers and I groan.

"Let me have a look" She says before kissing it again. I answer her questions as to levels of pain and tenderness when she asks. I'm certain I haven't broken anything in my hand and I must admit I'm enjoying her fussing over me.


	4. Chapter 4

Isobel dutifully rubs salve over my knuckles each morning and evening. I look forward to her touch, even when the bruise has faded away to almost nothing she still massages my hand. In the days since I pummeled Mr. Hogan we have become accustomed to living with one another. The awkwardness is mostly gone and I feel a contentment I have never felt before. I'm still trying to protect Isobel from the public. I went to Crawley house and told Mr. Molesley and Mrs. Bird that Isobel would be staying with me to convalesce of sorts. I also told them of the need for secrecy, that the last thing Mrs. Crawley needs is the titters of a bored public and they readily agreed.

Isobel was slowly coming out of her grief and I began to learn more about her. One morning she was having difficulty buttoning her left sleeve. "May I help?"

She points at the buttons, "Yes, never could master the left side."

"Corrie-fisted" I murmur and she chuckles.

"That noticeable?" She asks.

"Only to me", the truth is it was one of the first things I noticed about her. I remember how she presented the adrenaline to me with her left hand. Gave me back my stethoscope with that beautiful hand. I remember daydreaming once of how perfect it would be to walk with her. We could both hold hands and not have to switch to reach for something. I notice that her skirt and blouse are finally fitting properly. I had almost taken an awl to one of her belts to help her skirt stay up but since she is finally eating again it hadn't been needed. As I button up the sleeve I notice a faint white line.

"What's this from?" I ask as I trace it.

She sighs through her nose and something tells me I'm not going to like the answer.

"A memento from the war in South Africa, a patient was delirious with fever. Broke a bottle and attacked me with it...cut my arm." She delivers succinctly.

I feel another surge of protectiveness, "Was that it?"

Her eyes bore into mine and whatever she sees there makes her smile, "Yes."

I expel a breath, "Good."

The hours fly at the hospital and when we walk back to the house together I find myself acting upon my fantasy and take her right hand in my left and walk along hand in hand. My contentment is morphing into happiness and something else.

My happiness blinds me and I should have bloody known better.


	5. Chapter 5

**Lord Grantham**

I'm the fifth Earl of Grantham and I honestly can't believe I'm dealing with this. So someone in the village saw Mrs. Crawley and Dr. Clarkson holding hands and told Mama and after metaphorically twisting Mr. Molesley's arm he admits that Isobel hasn't been at Crawley House. I actually chuckled when I first heard of it. However, Cora became distraught almost livid.

_"I can't believe she would do this!" She spat_

_"She hasn't committed a murder." I say with a hint of jest._

_"Robert, after all we have been through."_

_I snort, "Exactly, everything we have been through so has she."_

_My wife scoffs at me before throwing up her hands, "You need to talk with Dr. Clarkson about this."_

I sent the message to Dr. Clarkson only to get Cora to put her fangs away. Part of me understands why she is upset, she needs something to focus on instead of being grief stricken. We have all been tried sorely this past decade, James and Patrick on the Titanic, the Great War and then the deaths. How many had died here in this very house? He had lost a daughter and son-in-law. The thought of Isobel before he had met her she had lost her husband, through Cora she had been driven to France, and she had lost her only child. Now it seems she has found some happiness with Dr. Clarkson and I'm supposed to squash it. I'm an Earl, a gentleman, not a devious bastard it's early in the day but I need a drink.

**Dr. Clarkson**

I've been officially summoned to Downton Abbey and my face must rival thunder since Isobel demands to know what is wrong with me.

I show her the letter I watch as her eyes quickly go over the page, "Discuss" is the only word she says. I watch as in amazement as the happiness that she has been exuded these past days is slowly replaced with that hollowed out look. I hear the wheels of a car crunch into the gravel outside the door I quickly make up my mind. "Come with me."

The chauffeur doesn't say anything to having an additional passenger. In the car Isobel's grip is tight as Downton Abbey looms her grips gets even tighter. I'm not going to let Isobel be taken from me. As a doctor I sacrificed a lot to get through school and start a practice. I have seen some of the worst things imaginable I think I can tempt fate.

Carson is there, I smile in spite of myself, Carson is always there. He hides his surprise at seeing Isobel well. As she is getting out the car I cock my left elbow and she takes it. We walk into Downton Abbey together.

We are shown to the library and Lord Grantham is there. He doesn't seem angry in fact he seems almost jovial. I tighten my arm so Isobel is closer to me.

"Ah Dr. Clarkson and cousin Isobel please sit."

This is getting stranger and stranger.

"Would you care for tea?"

Isobel shoots me a look her confusion is evident. I inhale deeply through my nose before gathering my wits, "You asked to see me, discuss a matter."

At this Lord Grantham rolled his eyes, "Yes, Cora and Mama heard from a villager that you had nice walk."

Isobel finds her voice, "And?"

Grantham shrugs, "That's it."

The confusion must be palpable and Lord Grantham seems to take pity on us. "Look I know that cousin Isobel is staying with you. Cora wanted me to speak to you and I just have."

"You mean you're not…" Isobel trails off.

I watch as Lord Grantham takes a sip of something, "I have lost a child and I nearly lost my wife. What with the war and everything else, I really am not bothered by what you two do. I only ask that you might look in on Mr. Moseley he is a bit worried."

Isobel sighs before speaking, "Well perhaps it should be better if there is a new tenant for Crawley House."

The confusion in the room seems to have spread to Lord Grantham "Whatever do you mean?"

"That house is for family." Isobel states matter of factly.

It has been awhile since I have seen such a look from Lord Grantham, "Dear Isobel, that will be your house until the day you die."

**Lord Grantham**

I watch through the windows as Cousin Isobel and Dr. Clarkson get back into the car. I know that Cora won't be pleased but she needs to be taken down a peg in this respect. It occurs to me I don't know which house they will be going to. I honestly don't know if Isobel will go back to Crawley House and I find I don't care.

**Dr. Clarkson**

The car is silent and we pass the first mile in silence until I feel that rolling again. I look over and sure enough Isobel is laughing. She is one of the few that laughs without making noise. I merely look at her, "God woman."

She surprises me by closing the distance between us and kissing me. Her lips are warm and I kiss her back. It's short, sweet and achingly tender. When it's over I kiss her again in confirmation to let her know that I feel _it_ too. Her smile reaches her eyes and I find that I am laughing as well.


	6. Chapter 6

I haven't felt this free since I passed my exam to become a doctor. In essence we have been given carte blanche by Lord Grantham. Couple that with the kiss that Isobel has just given me I feel as if I have no limits. There are so many things I want to do yet I haven't clue where to start. "here we are, home" Isobel announces quietly.

When I look outside and see my house and realize she has called it home has me wanting to gather her up right here inside of the car. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself in check. It's strange as soon as my foot crosses the threshold into the house I seem to have lost all of my bravado.

Isobel goes to the back and retrieves a bundle, no doubt her night clothes and cloisters herself in the bathroom. I don't mind her absence, in fact it allows me to get some things done however after three quarters of an hour I'm beginning to feel something is amiss. The door is slightly ajar and I push on it and see what appears to be Isobel scrubbing her left hand. In her right hand is bar of soap and she intermittently swipes at her left hand. Understanding flares in me, she is trying unsuccessfully to remove her wedding band.

I feel as though I shouldn't be privy to this and I turn around and go back to the kitchen. I make tea since we didn't have any at Downton Abbey. Just as the kettle is announcing it's contents are boiling I can feel her presence. She is in her night shift and dressing gown a quick look reveals that her wedding band is still on. From the look on her face she is not happy about it. I'm going to wait until she speaks to me first about the matter.

She moves beside me and reaches for the tea. Her left hand expertly scoops out the correct amount and places it in the teapot while I pour in the water with my right hand. Once again I am struck by how well we work together. As the tea steeps she touches my arm, "Do we have any glycerin here?"

I'm sure I have some in my bag, "Aye."

I move towards the door where my bag is kept and quickly squat down to open it. She follows soon after and I'm holding out the vial towards her. I watch as she unscrews the vial with her left hand, fills the dropper then transfers it to her right. However, with the slippery nature of glycerin and the fact that her right hand is not her dominant hand she is struggling.

It's time I gave up the pretense of not knowing what she is trying to do, "let me help you, you Corrie-fisted woman."

She laughs, it's a mixture of humor and of sadness. She passes me the dropper and I dispense an amount over her band before twisting it. The band slides off and I take the tea towel that I hand slung over my shoulder off and clean up her ring and I hand it to her. She bows her head and stares at it. I can see the conflict in her, what is she to do with this piece of metal. It is almost like Crawley House, does she keep it on and live in the past trying to ward off the future? Or does it hide in a drawer forgotten? I think there is a way to split the difference. After I had graduated my Mother had given me a gift of a silver caduceus on a chain. Apart from my own ring and watch I don't wear jewelry. I move to the bedroom and reach into the bedside table, in the back corner I feel the small pouch and remove it. I remove the chain and thread Isobel's ring through it before stuffing the caduceus back into the pouch and replacing in my drawer. I return to Isobel and tell her turn around. I then place the chain around her neck, "There."

When she turns back around to face me she launches herself at me and I have half a second before my arms are full of Isobel Crawley. I kiss her lips and my eyes fall closed. I let my hands wander up and down her back and across her arms. The bravado I thought I had lost reappears and I hold her tight before the issue of lack of oxygen to my brain has me tearing my lips away from her. Our foreheads touch and the sound of heavy breathing drowns out everything else.

"Can I ask for something?"

"Anything" And it's true I will give her anything.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

I feel my eyebrows climb to what's left of my hairline. She smirks before ducking her head, "I sleep better when you're there my dreams aren't sour. I want-

I cut off the rest of her sentence with another kiss. I know that we will make love it just won't be tonight and truthfully with all that has happened I think it would be a tad false if we did. I cock my head in the direction of my bedroom, "Come on woman."

I turn down the bed and let her choose a side, she scoots in and cover her with the covers. I move to the wardrobe and yank at my tie. I unbutton my shirt and pull it free from my trousers. I grab my own pyjamas and tend to my nightly needs in the bathroom before coming to bed. Once settled I reach over to switch off the lamp, I wait for my eyes to adjust to low light, it doesn't take long for the pink and green spots to stop dancing before my eyes. I can make out Isobel's silhouette and I reach out to touch her in confirmation. I know that sleep will be elusive tonight for my mind is thinking about all the wonderful possibilities. Nonetheless I must add one more, "Isobel?"

"Yes Richard?" Isobel answers.

"Will you marry me?" I find that I'm smiling because I'm positive I know what the answer will be.

Isobel's hand finds mine in the dark, "Yes, now go to sleep."


	7. Chapter 7

The warmth of Isobel's body is intoxicating and I find myself drifting off to sleep. I've never truly shared a bed so I'm not used to staying on one side. In the night I have moved towards the middle however, Isobel has just rearranged herself to fit like a cat that curl up in box three sizes too small. Before I can stop myself I find my hand caressing her arm and she sighs in contentment. I can't believe that I have the liberty to touch her. My thoughts are broken when she turns over to face me.

It's early so there is some light to see by. Her hand reaches out and toys with one of my pyjama shirt buttons.

I'm in uncharted waters here, I'm no virgin but it has been an extremely long time since I have been with a woman. Compound that with my age _Oh God Man... no turning back._ Her fingers flick open the top button before moving down to open the second. I stay absolutely still, it isn't until her palm is laid flat against my chest that I react. I pull her to me and kiss her. Lips smack, teeth clink and I can't remember the last time my head swam like this. I push her away from me and her face is distraught before I reach behind me to pull off my pyjama top and then reach for her again. Relief shines through her and I'm sorry that I made her think that I was rejecting her. I apologize with my lips. Oh God, those hands of hers are on my chest. I move my mouth to her neck and nibble a pulse point. I can feel the vibration of her moan through my lips and my hips snap forward. Her hands move lower towards my waistband and trace it I feel this gives me permission to reach down and grab the hem of her night shift. She aids me by raising her arms and soon the shift is off and I fling it in a corner. Her smile is wicked and I can feel myself mirroring it. Our chests meet and I exhale sharply, I can't remember the last time I've touched so much skin! Between my kicking and her nimble hands my pyjama bottoms join the pile of discarded clothes.

I push her against the mass of pillows so I can look at her. Her hair is splayed all over my pillows and her skin, oh her skin is warm and soft. Just the sight of her before me, _for me_. The inside of my cheek is still raw from where I bit it earlier and I bite it again. The pain centers me allowing me to focus. Her arms come up around my neck as I move over her settling my weight against her and distributing on my knees and elbows. The chain and ring around her neck begins to warm between our combined heat. She shifts below me and I start to rise but she shakes her head. I'm confused until I feel that she is only shifting her legs and then I feel her calves against my back. I'm lost, my clinical detachment is gone. My hips ease forward and she is there to meet me and then she is _everywhere._

"God" I don't recognize my shout. Blissful heat and smoothness greet me and I let my pleasure be known. Isobel mirrors my earlier action by lavishing my throat with attention. Her teeth graze me and I'm thankful for it. The still functioning portion of mind tells me it'll leave a mark while the primal part of my mind screams _Yes!_

My hand wanders to her hip and grab hold of it anchoring her to me more firmly. She seems to like it and her hand tugs my hair pulling my head down for a kiss. The air is thick, the comforter on my back is hot and woman below me is hotter still. It's too much yet still not enough. My only solace is knowing that while the end the races toward us is that we can race toward it again.


	8. Chapter 8

I'm still out of breath but I must ask, "Are you all right?"

She too is in a similar state but nods in the affirmative.

Using a knee and elbow I roll us onto our sides, the comforter slides down to pool at our waists. I can't seem to stop touching her afraid that she will disappear and I'll wake up in my bed alone. I twist a lock of her hair around my finger careful not to pull it too tight. We have become lovers, I feel a tad guilty of reneging on my promise to myself of not to make love to her last night but then my mind reasons that I made that promise for last night and we have made love on a new day.

Her fingers toy with my chest again and I'm struck by how right this. The light outside is still changing and soon it is time to leave this haven we have created.

We bathe and change separately so we can actually get to the hospital on time. There is a noticeable mark on my neck which my shirt collar does not adequately cover and I find I don't care. I finish the knot on my tie and turn to leave the room. Isobel is dressed in Navy Blue, while the color is a darker hue, to me it is if she is wearing bright red I hated the sight of her in black. The chain I gave her last night is visible just at the back of her neck. I want her again.

I must have made some noise for she cocks her head to side, "What is it?"

I decide on the truth, "I was just thinking I want to take you back to bed."

She blushes and ducks her head, a shy Isobel, will wonders never cease?

As I lock up the house I notice the fingers on her left hand are moving, no doubt her hand is feeling the absence of her wedding band. We begin walking towards the hospital, I only just remember that I have left my bicycle there and I groan. Before she can ask I tell her, "I left my bicycle at the hospital...have no clue what state it is in."

"That's a thought, a bicycle. Matthew had one I can borrow I'm sure he-

She stops mid stride and mid thought and I can see her emotions warring inside her. The tears are beginning to pool in her eyes and with the emotional ups and downs these past weeks she doesn't have the reserve to pull herself together and a breakdown here in public view would be devastating. The hospital is close but not close enough. The Grantham Arms Pub is in view and I know Jonathan will be awake. I pull Isobel along and her tears spill over just as we reach the door. I lean on it and it opens the bell tinkling above us. Jonathan is behind the bar his back is to us "If you can't read the sign on the door we're closed" he turns and sees me depositing Isobel in a chair. "Oh Dr. Clarkson, I didn't know it was you. Can I help?"

I dig into my pocket and slap a half crown on the table, "Brandy, please."

I pull up another chair and sit beside Isobel slinging an arm around her drawing her close to me. Jonathan reappears with a glass. Isobel tries to hold it but her hand is shaking so I cover her hand with my own and press the glass to her lips. She takes a sip but it's not enough, "Come on lass a bit more."

She obliges and soon the trembling stops. She sniffles and I give her my handkerchief. It breaks my heart when she wipes her eyes, her lower lip trembling in a praiseworthy attempt to control her tears.

"Sorry" she murmurs.

"For what?" I ask genuinely confused.

"I shouldn't cry." Is her statement as her eyes fill again.

I pull her closer to me and drop a kiss in her hair, "You lost your child, you weep all you want."

Eventually the tears stop and Jonathan is more than willing to let her go back to the lavatory to right herself. Millie, Jonathan's wife comes over to collect the glass. Her eyes dart to money I've left on the table. "Don't you be worrying over this brandy doctor. You tell Mrs. Crawley it's on the house."

I place the half crown back into my pocket, "That's very kind of you, I will tell her."

Millie smiles at me a little sadly, "It's good you're looking after her, Old Lady Grantham said you would be."

My confusion must show for Millie continues, "We saw her the other day and wanted to pay our respects and ask if there summat we could do. Perhaps look in on Mrs. Crawley. She said that you were looking after her and that would be the best thing."

I digest this new information, I had assumed that it was only Lord Grantham who was on our side. I think back to our meeting yesterday.

_"Yes, Cora and Mama heard from a villager that you had nice walk."_

_"And?"_

_"That's it. Look I know that cousin Isobel is staying with you. Cora wanted me to speak to you and I just have."_

I mentally kick myself for not having picked up on it. Lady Cora was the one with problem not the Dowager Countess or Lord Grantham. I scoff at this, I would have thought it would have been the other way round especially after what had transpired with Sybil. Thinking of Sybil has me aching for Isobel. When she reappears she graces me with a smile.

"Ready to go?" I say augmenting my words by pointing at the door.

She draws a breath in through her nose and she seems to grow a few inches, "Yes, I think I am."


	9. Chapter 9

I'm thankful for the routine of work for I find my mind wandering quite a bit, I think of that morning. Was it only five days ago that Isobel Crawley accepted my marriage proposal and became my lover?

My lover! I think back to last night.

_We tumble onto the bed without a stitch on. Laughter from both of us bounced off of the walls. She is so uninhibited, I love that. Back during the war when she and Cora were struggling for power I would roll my eyes. It was not because Isobel was wrong it was because she was right. Nonetheless, I wanted her to be spared the humiliation from the upper crust. I maybe a Doctor but I am a country doctor. The incident with Sybil taught me that. Isobel on the other hand simply doesn't care and I love that._

_I'm on my back and rise only for her to jab a finger into my chest. Shamelessly she straddles my hips and I shut my eyes for a moment. Never have I been in this position, most of my encounters with women we're brief fumbles and always in the missionary position. Her hair falls around her face as she leans forward. Her hands are on my shoulders and I raise my knees and plant my feet flat on the bed. Push and pull, up and -_

"Doctor" I don't get to dwell on my memories for a nurse tells me I am needed at Downton Abbey. Apparently there has been an accident in the kitchen with one of the servants. I'm not surprised to see Edith in the car to collect me she waves me inside, "Pratt has the day off today, went to Thirsk."

She maneuvers the car perfectly and soon we are at Downton. I go through the servants entrance and see a circle of bodies around the table. Mrs. Hughes drifts over to me, "So glad you're here doctor. A collision of sorts, Mrs. Patmore was inadvertently bumped by a maid spilling scalding water over Daisy's hand. Mrs. Patmore is now fretting in the corner wringing her hands and shaking her head, not wanting another patient, I order someone to put her in a chair. I see that someone was wise enough to put the hand in ice. I remove it and assess the damage. I can feel the eyes of the others boring into my head and I ignore them. Instead I focus on the hand. Blistering lets me know it is a second degree burn. I open my bag and remove some items. After the hand is wrapped I tell Daisy to take an aspirin for the pain and to keep the hand bandaged and clean. Mrs. Hughes sweeps her away. I'm packing my bag when Carson informs me that Lord Grantham would like to see me.

"Dr. Clarkson how is Daisy?"

"She sustained a burn to her hand, it's been wrapped and she's resting comfortably."

I watch as he runs a hand through his hair, "Good, good. It was all so chaotic."

I remember all the bodies crowding the table and of how Mr. Hogan reacted in regards to his son, "Yes, it can be."

He motions for me to sit down and I do. "I've had a letter from the Hospital board in Leeds."

"Leeds?"

"Yes, do remember William Mason?"

The lad with the damaged lungs, the husband of the widow I just tended, "I do"

Once again Lord Grantham muses his hair, "I don't know if it was made known to you but Mama used her influence with Marquess of Flintshire to get William transferred here."

I remember Old Lady Grantham and Lady Edith making a case for William and how I had to say no, "Aye, officers only at Downton."

Lord Grantham folds his hands in his lap, "Well it seems they are now calling in a favor."

Marquess and Lords don't call in favors lightly, "Oh?"

"Yes, apparently the hospital is building a new wing for paediatrics, the opening will be in a few days and they are gathering dignitaries and such and they want cousin Isobel to attend.

I think Lord Grantham's train of thought is pulling into my station, "Due to her late husband's work with children and infection."

"Precisely"

I shake my head, "I don't understand the problem."

"She's refused, the first invitation was sent a few days before Matthew's death and rightly so she declined. The hospital petitioned her again and she declined, again her decision. However, the Marquess is being more insistent and have since written to me to _persuade_ cousin Isobel to go."

Persuade, more like order. "I take it you haven't been successful and since you're telling me you would like me to have a crack at it?"

Lord Grantham nods in the affirmative.

"Faigh muin" I mumble.

Lord Grantham puts his hands up in mock surrender, "I'm just asking that you talk to her about it. I'm not about to have a sack thrown over her head and her pushed into a car for Leeds."

I must say I'm surprised by this, I had no clue of this event. "When is this opening?"

My words have Lord Grantham making a face, "Have you not received an invitation?"

I resist the urge to chew on the inside of my cheek, "No m'lord I haven't."

"ah" Is Lord Grantham's reply.


	10. Chapter 10

While at Downton I inquired about Matthew's bicycle and Lord Grantham was more than kind to have one of the hall boys get it out for me. I inspect it and find it is in good shape. I wonder what Isobel will do when she sees it? I tell the house that I will ride it back into the village that there is no need for Edith to drive me back.

The ride gives me time to mull over this whole Leeds debacle. There must be a reason I wasn't invited and also there must be something else going on for Isobel not to talk to me about it. I carefully think about how to bring it up. I cycle back to the hospital and place Matthew's bike beside mine.

Inside the hospital I find the staff preparing for evening, the only patient to come in is a child with what looks like chicken pox of all things. The lad was seen by Isobel given some lanolin ointment and sent back home.

We walk to the office, her desk on one side mine on the other. I watch as she makes notes and I go to check my desk. Just as I thought there is no correspondence at all from Leeds.

"What happened with you at Downton?"

I find her question may give me a way to broach the subject, "Second degree burn on that young cook-Daisy. Not too serious, burn was cooled before I got there. Blisters still intact, cleaned, wrapped put to bed."

Isobel tuts, "She is such a sweet girl."

I nod in agreement, "Yes seeing her made me think of how I had to turn her husband away."

Isobel stares at me with a bit of confusion.

"When he was first injured he was sent to Leeds since Downton was for officers. Old Lady Grantham and Lady Edith came to plead for him and I had to say no."

She rolls her eyes and huffs out a breath, "Leeds."

"Something the matter?"

She opens her mouth as if to speak then shuts it, I've seen this before when she was on my doorstep with a suitcase. She moves to my desk, her fingers begin tracing the bell of my stethoscope. "It's silly, when Reginald was doing his work he had a colleague-Trevor Fairbanks." She shakes her head at the memory, "I didn't care for him. It's funny you should mention Leeds for he is on that Medical Board."

Her eyes narrow at me and before her clever mind can pin me to anything I blurt, "While I was at Downton I found Matthew's bicycle, I brought it with me."

These words seem to do the trick for her eyes widen in wonder and she bolts to the door. I follow her and watch as she finds the bicycle and her hands roam over the frame lovingly. "Oh thank you for bringing this."

The next day I ring Leeds Hospital and speak with Dr. Fairbanks. Just from this man's tone I can understand why Isobel doesn't care for him. However, I do find out the information I need. After I replace the earpiece I find myself tapping the the telephone with my thumb.

I spy the clock, it's time I headed to Downton to check on Daisy's hand. As I expected the hand is starting to heal. "Anything else Daisy?"

The young woman looks at me, "my hand is fine but I have to go to the toilet every five minutes for the amount of tea Mrs. Patmore and Mrs. Hughes are giving me."

I openly laugh at this, "I'll take care of it."

After giving orders to Mrs. Patmore and Hughes I go to see Lord Grantham.

"Dr. Clarkson, how are things?"

"Daisy is fine, kidneys are functioning perfectly." Lord Grantham gives me look, "Never mind, I have some new information about our problem."

His eyes light up and I tell him of Trevor Fairbanks and the other piece of information I discovered, "I asked in a roundabout way if I could escort Isobel to the opening and got some nonsense of the guest list being fixed. I'm sure you know the sort."

Lord Grantham shakes his head, "There has to be a way to get you there, she would go if she knew you would be there."

"Actually my Lord I wonder if you could do something for me?"

Isobel is angry with me, I've told her that she will be representing Grantham Cottage Hospital at the Leeds Opening. "Why are you sending me?"

I know I can't smile so I force an eye roll, "You're the Head of Nursing for this Hospital, also you are co-chair woman of the board. Old Lady Grantham is not feeling well enough to attend."

In the coming days her anger at me seems to diminish for she is finally starting to kiss me again. I've enlisted Mr. Molesley to help me and he is more than willing. The day arrives for the opening and I leave the house early and head to the hospital.

**Lord Grantham**

Cousin Isobel is silent in the car as Pratt drives us. She may not be talking but her annoyance is flowing off of her in waves. When we arrive at the hospital I see why, Dr. Trevor Faribanks reminds me of Sir Richard Carlisle. Cousin Isobel seems to be his sought after prize. I force myself to smile when he approaches us. "Lord Grantham so good of you to come and you as well Mrs. Crawley, you honor us."

The way he speaks makes my skin crawl, fortunately reprieve is in sight.

"Cousin Isobel, Major Clarkson is here."


	11. Chapter 11

**Lord Grantham**

At my announcement I see her turn and in an instant she noticeably relaxes and the annoyance in her eyes morphs into love, I've seen that look on all of my daughters faces.

Beside me Isobel whispers, "Richard."

Fairbanks shoots me a look, "Major Clarkson?"

I can see the jaw muscles of Dr. Fairbanks tense no doubt he is grinding his teeth. While Dr. Clarkson is beaming at Isobel.

"Yes, Major Richard Clarkson is an Army surgeon. He was the head of the convalescent home at Downton. The Army asked him to be here to inspect the new wing." I say casually. What Dr. Fairbanks doesn't know won't hurt him, it is true the Army asked Dr. Clarkson to be here albeit two days ago when I had phoned the war office. With the help of Mr. Molesley, Dr. Clarkson was able to unearth his uniform. In the years after the war it still fits and I feel a pang of jealousy. I wore the same uniform but I didn't do anything. I was a ceremonial figurehead while Dr. Clarkson worked. One of my strongest memories is of him with his uniform jacket off and white coat on alongside Isobel as they lifted a patient into a bed. Without a word Dr. Clarkson had passed her his stethoscope. She peeled off the patients top revealing a chest that purple. After a quick listen she removed the earpiece and Clarkson stated, "Tamponade?" to which Isobel stopped the nearest nurse and asked for some equipment. I helped the nurses erect screens as the two of them began draining his chest. I remember I had been sulking to Cora about not going to the front. After seeing what cousin Isobel and Dr. Clarkson had done with that patient and all the others that day I stopped sulking.

I doubt any three of them have actually listened to what I have said but I'm not offended. I made a mistake once, a tragic one. I became blinded by title instead of experience and through that I lost a child-my child. I know Dr. Clarkson granted me absolution in regards to Sybil but I don't feel worthy of it. Perhaps by having him here now with Isobel protecting her from this vile Dr. Fairbanks is one way I can repay him.

Fairbanks seems to have found his tongue and he is bitter, "Well Isobel would you come with me on a tour of the wing?"

Isobel moves forward and stands next to Clarkson, "Gladly, along with Major Clarkson. He is here to inspect the wing after all."

I can feel the corners of my mouth turning up as Isobel threads her arm through the crook of Dr. Clarkson's elbow. I watch as they follow Dr. Fairbanks along with some other dignitaries. I can feel someone next to me, I look down and see Edith. She had been kind enough to drive Dr. Clarkson. "I can't thank you enough my dear. You didn't have to any of this."

"Nonsense Papa, I like being useful. Besides isn't it romantic?"

I move my forefinger and thumb horizontally across my lips before bringing my forefinger down the middle vertically. My signal that I have made a promise and will say no more on the subject.


	12. Chapter 12

I know it is morally wrong to delight in another ones suffering but at this moment watching Dr. Faribanks squirm I feel a twinge of satisfaction. Having Isobel on my arm has me feeling young. I do pay attention to what Dr. Fairbanks is telling us about the new wing and I can commit some things to memory to incorporate into our hospital.

The ribbon cutting has it's grand flourish and I applaud with the others. There is another reception afterwards and I hang back with Lord Grantham encouraging Isobel to talk with others. I have Dr. Fairbanks under a watchful eye and he slinks off like an alley cat after losing a fight. Soon after Isobel finds me, "I want to go home now please."

"Of course is my answer."

Together we find Lord Grantham and Lady Edith. There is laughable conversation on who will travel with who. Lord Grantham offers to go with Pratt while Lady Edith is more than willing to drive Isobel and myself. In the car all the barriers are down, literal and metaphorical, the windows allow in the air and we talk about all subjects. We are not Doctor, Lady or Nurse here in the car. Isobel fills in the bits I couldn't about Dr. Fairbanks, I can see Lady Edith's face in the driving mirror and it is rewarding to see her engaged and happy.

"I must say it was very entertaining to watch."

"Almost like a novel" Isobel says with a smile.

This time when I look in the mirror I can see Edith contemplating and I smile.

Isobel and Edith converse and I just relax in the seat and listen to the two of them. Over the decades of being a doctor I've developed the skill of listening. Many times I've overheard the nurses conversing about boys, clothes and other gossip. Generally as soon as they would see me the conversation would end. Watching and hearing Lady Edith and Isobel talk I feel as though I've been allowed behind the curtain.

In the days that come Isobel and I discuss our future. While Lord Grantham was generous with his offer of Crawley House Isobel is still not keen on staying there and I won't force her. In an afternoon with some help from Millie and Jonathan her things are transferred to my home-our home. We register our intent and our banns are posted. The ring I have worn for so long will be Isobel's. I take it to a goldsmith in the village for it to be sized.

While I may have the steady hands of a surgeon I notice that mine tremble when I slide that ring into place. I am now allowed to kiss her and she is now my wife, my lover, my consort.

**Reviews are how I learn.**


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